


sacrifice

by bonebo



Series: McReyes Week '16 [6]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 01:32:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8691292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebo/pseuds/bonebo
Summary: They string along together–in this mockery of a relationship, the touch-and-go parody that Jesse all at once loves and hates–for a grand total of three months.





	

They string along together--in this mockery of a relationship, the touch-and-go parody that Jesse all at once loves and hates--for a grand total of three months.

In the end, Jesse isn’t quite sure what sets his Commander off, what the final straw is that breaks Gabriel’s back. Maybe it’s the day-to-day stresses of running an underfunded, under-appreciated black ops team; maybe it’s the particular brand of snide, backhanded abuse that only the UN can get away with doling out. Maybe it’s Jack himself, Golden Boy with his thirty transmissions a day hounding Gabriel for this, that, and three other things; maybe, it’s Jesse’s own quiet touches and loving kisses, hidden in the dark of Gabriel’s dorm where no one can find them. All he knows is that they went into Watchpoint: Tunis with the joint meeting on their minds, and now the only thing anyone can care about is the two Commanders, sizing each other up in the main forum.

They have everyone’s attention, but eyes only for each other--Gabriel’s face dark and stormy, Jack’s quickly growing red around his collar. They glare like they’ve hated each other for centuries, two war heroes turned bitter and jaded in their age.

It’s such a far cry from the appearances they put on--from what the textbooks and museums say they are--that it’s almost surreal.

Jesse wants to stop them, wants to jump into the middle and save the fallout--but it’s like watching a train wreck. He has no idea what he can even start to do or say; he knows the problems in their relationship run deeper than what he can see, what he can solve, what he can save.

They start in quiet tones--no less hostile for the lack of volume, growls and snarls that are as vicious as they are hushed. Jesse can’t make out the words but he can see the reactions, how Gabriel’s lip curls and Jack’s fists clench, the way they both straighten up as if they’re bracing to brawl. It’s tragic: two soldiers that fought to save the world together, now only able to fight each other.

The first strike is like a gunshot--a sharp slap to Gabriel’s cheek that whips his head around, that pulls a collective gasp from those gathered. Jesse stares down at his feet and finds he can’t fucking move, the sickness roiling in his gut keeping his boots glued to the floor.

But no one had expected Jack to hit first.

After that blow comes another. Then another, and another, and Jesse can’t look up because the sound alone is enough to force his heart into his throat; there’s motion beside him and it’s Moreno’s lunge forward that finally pulls Jesse’s gaze up.

Moreno--and Qua, and Bodhan, and Traes, Blackwatch loyal before anything else, Reyes’ wolves--all rush forward. Jesse watches and prepares himself for the brawl, horrified--

But Jack’s next blow is blocked by the Blackwatch Commander himself, left hand iron on the incoming fist, his knuckles white. Gabriel’s free hand comes up quick, halting his agents in their tracks; the pack stops, stunned and angry, but ever obedient to their leader’s will.

Gabriel lifts his head from its bowed, beaten position, and fixes Strike-Commander Morrison with a look that could melt steel.

“Enough.” Gabriel’s voice is still quiet, but there’s no mistaking the ice in his tone, the definity behind his words. “I’ve had enough of this, John.” He straightens up fully, raising his chin; his cheeks are already starting to darken with the remnants of the strikes, but he wears them like battle scars. He refuses to be shamed.

“This ends now. We’re finished.”

Jack stares at him, then scoffs, pulling his hand free of Gabriel’s grip. He shakes his hand out to relieve the ache in his knuckles, then spits, “You won’t leave me.”

The broadcast face of Overwatch is twisted into a scowl more hateful and darker than anything the public has ever seen. To Gabriel, it’s standard Morrison.

“You can’t leave me,” he hisses, taking a step closer, crowding himself in Gabriel’s space. “We’re married, Gabi--or did you forget? ‘Till death do us part, and we both know no one else would put up with you. With your faults. Your flaws. Your _hissyfits_.”

“Maybe not.” Gabriel’s face is impassive, his voice flat; he takes a step back, gracefully removing himself from the charged situation, and then suddenly gives Jack a wry, malicious smirk. “Or maybe, I’ve already found someone who will.”

He beckons to his agents again--and Blackwatch leaves in a tight-knit knot with Gabriel at its center. Each and every member with the skull crest is on high alert, daring their fellow agents--hell, even their Strike-Commander--to even think about coming near, threatening the safety of the family. Jesse finds himself swept up in the midst of it almost without thinking, and places himself at Gabriel’s right side, aching to reach out and grab that shaking hand.

He should--it would serve Morrison right. But he won’t.

Reyes, Blackwatch’s beloved king, stares straight ahead as his agents secure a path for him. His dark gaze is level and clear, his gait smooth, even; he walks with his head high and his shoulders straight, like he’s just relieved himself of a huge burden, and Jesse’s ecstatic to say that he has.

Bodhan suddenly rushes for the door, Qua on his heels. The two check to make sure no one is waiting outside for them--no one around to cause a disturbance--before ushering the rest of the knot out and away, toward their transport.

From there it’s a five-hour flight back to headquarters. Back to home.

Gabriel spends it surrounded by his family.

He doesn’t talk about what happened in the forum in detail, but Blackwatch has always taken the brightest stars and turned them into supernovas. It doesn’t take much for them to piece together what happened--what has been happening--what Gabriel has endured, without a word. A few quiet questions, a few cagey answers, and the broad strokes are clear enough. The details are too personal to be important.

And it’s enough, for now. Some parts of the past should remain there forever.

“But Commander,” Traes pipes up after a moment, his voice uncertain. “What about... you know, Commander Morrison? What happens now?”

Gabriel lets a sigh rattle out through his teeth, his voice even as he says, “I’ve done enough sacrificing for John Morrison to last me a lifetime.” He twists the ring on his finger slowly, thoughtfully; then he pulls it off, studies it in the light, closes it up in his palm. He likes the way the gold is swallowed up in the sea of his skin.

His eyes skim over the group of gathered agents, appreciative and warm, before they settle on Jesse’s face.

“It’s time I did something for myself, for once.”


End file.
